


The Left-Hand Path

by BobRussellFan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 09:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21444079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobRussellFan/pseuds/BobRussellFan
Summary: The encounter between Anakin and Ahsoka at the end of Twilight of the Apprentice goes differently.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	The Left-Hand Path

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: suicide

It was a simple matter of swordsmanship, really - at least, that’s what Ahsoka would tell herself later. She’d moved beyond the exhaustion in her muscles, the pain from her fall from the height of the Temple, the grief and loss burning away at her heart. When she ran for Vader, she was all speed, and grace, and -

He knew she was coming. She saw the start of the movement; the parry that would knock the saber from her hand, the followup that would end her life.

In an instant that lasted an eternity, she closed and swiped her saber toward his face; and drove her shoto up under his guard and into his chest. Armor and flesh gave way in an instant and she felt the shock as her hilt hit his chest, the resistance fading as the backside emerged from the air. She screamed at his armored face as she felt energy building up; the sound of flesh giving way and cybernetic fusing, and with an explosion of Dark Side energy and wordless cry of his own, he blew her backwards with enough force to briefly stun her.

Briefly, anyway. “Ahsoka! Hurry!” She opened her eyes and saw Ezra calling to her, felt the Dark Side energy of the temple crackling around her, and let her training take over. She bounded to her feet, lightsabers in hand, and then she heard the voice.

“Ahsoka.” Her heart turned to ice. “Ahsoka.”

Darth Vader - Anakin Skywalker, neither, was crawling towards her, his broken armor crackling, face mask smashed. She’d hurt him badly, cut his breathing device and broken what he wore, but the Dark Side alone was pulling him forward. She considered a moment - then quenched her lightsabers and ran to her fallen master’s side.

She reached for him, and wished very badly she could see his face. “Anakin!” She bent down. “I won’t leave you,” she promised. “Not this time.”

“Ahsoka.” He reached up and took her hand - and she realized with a sudden start he was still holding his lightsaber in his gauntleted grip. He struggled with her feebly for a moment, until she realized what he was doing - placing the emitter against his chin.

“Ahsoka.” He said again, in his own voice, muffled by the mask, and she realized he was dying. “Ahsoka.” She realized what he wanted and felt tears in his eyes, her own grief magnified by the escalating Dark Side energy. “...please.”

She stared down at him, his aching need burning a hole in the Force around her - and without another word, she ignited Darth Vader’s lightsaber through his chin and out the top of his head. She screamed once, one last time, and would have stayed there if she hadn’t felt Ezra’s hand on her shoulder. Before she could push him away with the Force, he was pulling her up - and now raw instinct saw her running for the ship, the raw instinct of the woman who had just killed the Lord of the Sith who had been her master.

As the Phantom roared into the sky, Ahsoka looked back as the temple flared to life - and watched Anakin Skywalker burn.

Later

In the briefing room at Atollon base, Ahsoka looked around at her friends. Ezra was there, his eyes wide, still in shock - the eyes and ears of Kanan Jarrus, who was for the moment asleep in the Ghost’s medical bay. She’d have let him disembark, but they had business to attend to first. “We need to leave this base within the next hour,” she said simply. “The Emperor will know that Vader is dead, and he will seek his vengeance against us.”

“Back to Lothal?” asked Zeb. “We know some places there that even the Empire doesn’t know about.”

“No,” said Ahsoka, shaking her head. “That would only bring Palpatine’s wrath down on your homes. No, the Ghost will need to travel.” She turned to look at Hera. “I have a...friend on Felucia who may be able to help us. She’s a little unpredictable, but we can use every ally we can now…”

Later

Ahsoka waited until she was alone in her quarters in Atollon Base to weep. She had long practice in silent weeping and now was no exception - Kanan, Ezra, and the others couldn’t hear her as she slumped down beside the bunks to weep. She wept for Anakin, and for Padme, and for Master Windu and Master Yoda, and for all the promise of a bright future broken by the machinations of one Sith Lord. It was Palpatine who had forged Maul out of a Zabrak boy, dragged Anakin into the darkness, Palpatine who had made this all happen. He had killed Anakin long before that last terrible moment on Malachor.

**Ahsoka. Ahsoka. Thank you.**

After a moment’s consideration, she reached into her bag and pulled out the Sith holocron that had been the cause of so much death and devastation - both now and in the days of the Old Republic. She could feel the power in it through her fingers, freezing cold and burning hot in an impossible combination that must have come deep from the Dark Side. She’d been right, she knew instinctively, to keep it from Kanan and Ezra - Kanan in his blindness, and Ezra in his youth, weren’t the ones to use it. But if they were going to stop Maul, if they were going to stop Sidious, they needed power. She was the one who had killed Darth Vader. It was her fault the Empire was coming for them. It was her risk to take - not theirs.

She closed her eyes and pictured Anakin’s face.

**“Please excuse my new Padawan apprentice....”**

Regret

Padme

**“Well, I... suppose it couldn't hurt. Besides, I enjoy your company. Of course you can join me. As... extra security.”**

Grief

Palpatine

**“Boldy spoken for one so young…”**

Rage

She opened her eyes as the holocron before her unfolded itself, its light a brilliant red against her eyes - and began to speak.

**Ahsoka Tano…**

Later

“FORTY-FIVE YEARS OF SUPREME EFFORT - WASTED!” Lightning crackling from his fingers, Emperor Palpatine was in a rare mood. “Molding him into the perfect weapon, turning him against the Jedi, relishing in his turn to the Dark Side - and now what? Dead at the hands of that Togrutan filth he called an apprentice.”

He made a casual gesture at one of his Praetorian Guards and summoned the lightning - then smiled in satisfaction as she fell dead without a sound. Well, some training wasn’t a waste of time, it seemed! He turned to his guest, feeling his rage begin to cool. He’d never liked rage among his passions: it made a man clumsy, and clumsy was a sin he could not abide.

“I blame myself, my young friend. I thought it would be a fine thing to turn the greatest Jedi into the greatest Sith, so I followed the young Skywalker’s career from the moment I sensed his power in the Force.” Casually, he walked up to his throne and took a seat, looking down at the top of his guest’s head where he kowtowed on the floor beneath. “But it seems the son of slaves had far too much sentimentality to make a proper Sith Lord. Never have I seen such power in one so stupid!” He clasped his hands together and cast moony eyes upwards. “Ah, the tales I told him, of how only I could be trusted among his friends, of how only my power could save his wife…” He made a little gesture, remembering with a smile the good times. “You know, he actually believed that I had somehow traveled to Tatooine and grew him in his mother’s womb?” He made a disgusted face. “As if I would ever soil myself with a filthy slave woman.”

He sighed, looking again at his guest. “Are you...comfortable?”

There was a hesitation - the boy’s fear was both a sign of his intelligence and a pleasure to Palpatine’s senses. “I...need nothing, my master.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?” The boy’s fear grew, and Palpatine smiled. Ah-hah, so there was a need beyond the flesh he had just spent thirteen days overcoming - and a secret he kept! Perhaps this occasion would be worth something after all.

“Only the Dark Side, my master.”

“Good, good…” Palpatine folded his hands. “Just as you should. Thank you for your patience with my own display of emotion - I have, after all, lost my closest friend!” He laughed for a time, then said, “You know your mission?”

“Vengeance, my master.”

_Ech. Children._ “Nothing so inadequate.” Palpatine’s voice became a snarl. “Take the surviving Inquisitors and travel to the Outer Rim. Find the Togrutan who deprived me of my apprentice and kill her in front of her Rebel friends. Find the former Darth Maul and bring him to me - we have...personal business to finish.” He laughed at the thought - and truly did find his mood improving.

“And the rest, my master?”

“Jarrus and the boy may yet be useful to me - bring me whichever proves the most resilient to your interrogations. As for the rest, dispose of them as you see fit. Let this be a test of your...discretion in such matters.” He chuckled.

“Yes, my master.” The boy did not rise: ah well, he would learn independence enough to function in the field, or he would die. It was of very little matter to Palpatine.

Palpatine considered for a moment, then said, “Wait. Your lightsaber.” It was in his hand with a gesture - and he stood above the closest thing he now had to an apprentice.

He pressed the blade against the boy’s neck, so close it burned the flesh, and nodded in satisfaction when he neither flinched nor ignored the pain. “Rise, and prove worthy of your name - LORD STARKILLER.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, folks.


End file.
